


toss your dirty shoes

by gabriphales



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Degradation, Dom/sub, Fantasizing, Hair-pulling, Humiliation, Light Sadism, M/M, Nipple Clamps, Nipple Torture, Objectification, Painplay, mentions of orgies and public use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:01:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27115787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabriphales/pseuds/gabriphales
Summary: aziraphale won't stop badgering gabriel while he's doing chores, and is promptly punished for it
Relationships: Aziraphale/Gabriel (Good Omens)
Kudos: 30





	toss your dirty shoes

**Author's Note:**

> this is pure filth and honestly i wrote it kinda fucked up on pain and sleeping meds so if i missed any typos god forgive me

"i still don't see why you expect me to help you with this." aziraphale's voice is smarting, sardonic, spoken with a curving smile to suit his rolling eyes. gabriel isn't one to rise in temper when he can help it, he laughs instead, shakes his head at aziraphale's continued bratty coyness. watching as his lover leans against the washing machine, jutting his hip out in a less than subtle manner. it's obvious what he wants, but gabriel is _busy,_ consumed with chores that might end up being necessary eventually, so he confines himself to folding another pair of trousers. thick and corduroy, they'd done a number on the dryer. aziraphale remains oblivious, choosing to ignore how his outdated fashion choices may or may not affect modern technology.

"i told you already, should a time come where we're deprived of our miracles, it's _useful_ to already know how to get by without them." gabriel chuckles, only more humored by the histrionic sigh that follows. aziraphale isn't pleased - even if he's not the one that has to be doing anything, he'd much rather have gabriel at his beck and call, than consumed by _this._ obviously, he's doing all he can to regain his lover's focus. pouting like a needy coquette, and batting his lashes when their eyes meet - the absolute _tart_ of an angel.

"crowley's right, you know." gabriel murmurs.

aziraphale leans in closer, clearly thinking he's finally gotten what he's after. "how so?"

"you are, my dear," gabriel presses him down to the floor by his shoulders, settling him down onto his knees. "absolutely insatiable."

aziraphale's brow wrinkles, looking adorably confused. "why, i'd say i'm anything but! here i am, tolerating you _ignoring_ me for something completely unnecessary."

gabriel cups his cheek with a soothing palm, thumbing over his soft, smooth lips, and parting that precious pout. "of course, you think you're the sweetest little angel around, don't you? so well behaved, mild mannered, why - " he pushes inside aziraphale's mouth, manuerving to the back of his tongue, and rubbing there gently, tempting the edge of a gag. "it's a wonder we even have you, when we so _obviously_ don't deserve it."

and aziraphale flushes over at that, drawing back, and leaving gabriel’s fingers cold and shimmering in the dim light. “no, no - of course not, i - i’m so lucky to have you. both of you, that is.” he mumbles, scooting in closer, looking desperate for a reassuring word. gabriel’s lips are quick to press to his forehead, saying more than he could speak aloud.

leaning down, gabriel croons in his ear, “you want this, don't you? want me to get rough with you?”

aziraphale nods hurriedly, shuffling from side to side, and biting down nerves. “please, i - i want you to show me my place.”

and gabriel knows it's only play, that aziraphale wouldn't dream of being talked down to, if not previously desired, but that doesn't stop his cock from twitching hotly. he rises to his feet, rustling aziraphale’s curls, and working himself in order.

“alright, nightgown up.” he bites out, barking the orders. “don't linger on it, or i’ll give you something worse.”

aziraphale nods his head, tugging at the hem of his daisy blue nightdress, clearly vintage, as authentic as any one item of clothing can be. gabriel has to imagine he hasn't stopped wearing it since the victorian era, and for good reason. it suits him dearly, frilly at the cuffed sleeves, and remarkably dainty in a sweet, satin flush of fabric.

with every inch the gown lifts, the more enticed gabriel finds himself. raking his eyes over a delectably soft tummy, pudgy hips, then a waist just begging to be held between strong, sure hands, and his _chest,_ his -

“so gorgeous,” gabriel murmurs appreciatively, dragging his hands up aziraphale’s stomach, and settling at his tits. he palms there with a cautious, gentle touch. the precursor of inevitable pain. “you like my attention, right? like being center stage, no distractions.”

“mhm,” aziraphale hums, already a little breathless. gabriel holds back whatever teasing, snide comment he could have made on how aziraphale loses all his eloquency when put down like this. abandoning his carefully preserved etiquette; it's delightful to watch someone so prim, so proper, melt until they're raw and aching, nothing more.

gabriel rolls his sleeves up, pops the first button of his dress shirt, and slips off his tie. it fits remarkably well stretched around aziraphale’s jaw, used as a makeshift gag. aziraphale accepts it without complaint, but gabriel can see the hazy, blurred dash of concern in his eyes at the thought of tainting such expensive cloth. it's silk, a finely woven antique, and gabriel hasn't let a week go by at the office without wearing it once for decades now. 

“it's alright,” gabriel reassures him, ruffling his curls. “you're allowed to drool - it's inevitable, really. i _want_ to see you get yourself messy.”

aziraphale shivers, but nods once more, his breathing a heavy, shallow pulse now, continuously forgetting to breathe out his nose. gabriel gives him one last comforting pet, then reaches over the dryer to snatch something from one of the shelves above. aziraphale goes red, hot, blazingly scarlet when he sees what he's gotten for him. wooden clothespins, the sort rarely used by anyone in the house who isn't gabriel. right now, they're going to be used on him, and it doesn't take a higher power’s blessing to guess how.

“tell me if it gets to be too much, okay? i don't want to actually hurt you.” gabriel’s voice lowers, his hands tender against aziraphale’s chest, groping his tits in a leisurely, careless manner. he flicks over a hardening nipple, watches it flush pink while aziraphale struggles not to flinch, and quirks a smile. he’s definitely going to enjoy this.

“bad angels,” he starts, molding his fingers around aziraphale’s breast to hold it in place, and pinching the first clip down. “need to be put back in line, don't they?”

aziraphale can't help whining - gabriel never told him he wasn't allowed to do so, and it's already stinging so _badly._ he whimpers, leaning against gabriel’s leg, forehead rested atop his knee. his brows furrow, eyes watering at the pain. gabriel gives him a moment to collect himself, panting softly before he draws back, and presents himself for the second pin.

__“good boy,” gabriel coos, tilting his chin up, and stroking at his ruddy, damp cheeks. “that's it, you're alright. just one more, and i’ll be done. you can take it, can't you?”_ _

__aziraphale nods, gasping when gabriel slots his shoe between his thighs, pressing up against the slick front of his panties._ _

__“so brave, my sweet darling.” gabriel smothers him in praise, clamping the second clothespin down, and rubbing with his thumb against the peeking, rosy end of the bud that sticks through. aziraphale’s squirming now, gulping down the urge to rut against gabriel’s fine leather loafer, and shaking all the more for his determination._ _

__“you're safe,” gabriel tells him, stroking through his curls, and tugging them sharply when aziraphale dares a subtle thrust. “you're safe with me, just be patient, i’ll take care of you soon.”_ _

__aziraphale’s cunt is rubbed raw by now, twitching and hot, with his panties stuck to sopping flesh. gabriel isn't even paying attention to him anymore - he’s gone back to folding the _fucking_ laundry. that blasted, hell-sent, pile of clothing and pure damnation. here he is, trembling like a colt in the rain, and gabriel won't give him the slightest scrap of affection. knowing what he's in for, he does his best to huff through the gag, whining petulantly._ _

__gabriel takes one look at him, and raises his brow. it's a warning to be taken seriously - of course, aziraphale doesn't. he lets out a shrill, demanding sound the moment gabriel turns his focus to the chore at hand again. were he on steady footing, he’d most definitely put on a show with a few childish stomps, kicking his feet and such. as it is, all he can do is raise his voice until it's impossible to ignore, staring up at gabriel with soft, pleading eyes, the best he can offer._ _

__gabriel tugs at one of the clamps, wrenches it to twist in the most _impolite_ manner imaginable, and aziraphale squeals for him. going limp against gabriel, and clinging onto his leg, wrapping his arms around the thick, firm safety of a muscular calf. he sobs softly, keeping up the pitiful chorus even as it only tempts gabriel to pull harder, pushing him back, and tormenting both his tits equally. there's no chance of respite, when he tries to move back, shuffling clumsily, gabriel only tugs him into place by his hair, smacking his breast right atop a bruising, purpled nipple as righteous punishment._ _

__finally, he's dragged to his feet, a hand at the collar of his nightgown. gabriel hoists him up onto the dryer, spreads his shaking legs, and for a moment, aziraphale dares to dream he’s going to be relieved now - rewarded for all his penance. though his tits are still sore, hot and _burning_ where the clamps hold stiff nubs in place, he can surely tolerate that if it means he’ll be given gabriel’s mouth - or better yet, his cock - in return._ _

__unfortunately, he receives neither of those treasures. instead, gabriel whisks yet another clothespin from some dark, forbidden pit of hell, (at least, that's how aziraphale’s beginning to think of it) and pushes his legs back. with his hips held forwards, and his panties tugged taut between plush, trembling thighs, he already knows what he's in position for. his best puppydog stare can only assuage gabriel for one moment, earning him a condescending pout in reply, before his labia is pinched between strong fingers, and then - _fuck._ _ _

__

__

__if crowley were in the same situation, at gabriel’s mercy, he’d probably buck his hips up in protest, hiss out something cold, _’fucking sssadist.'_ as it is, aziraphale is not nearly so brave as crowley. so he shakes his head instead, wobbly and weak, putting on a mock show of fright._ _

__“you're so mean,” he gasps out between labored breaths. “hurts,” he says, just because it's true, and he likes watching the way gabriel’s cock twitches in his trousers at the single, slight word._ _

__“it _hurts.”_ aziraphale repeats, savoring how gabriel has to catch his breath, gripping onto the edge of the dryer for support, stability. and he isn't lying, what had been soft of his cunt before is now fevered and weighed down. there's a pressure right against his clit, when he moves his hips just a quirk, he can feel it. gabriel gently presses down with the pin, rutching it against the trapped, tingling nerves. aziraphale doesn't even have the dignity to resist, he lets gabriel do as he pleases, panting like a worn down puppy all the while. _ _

__it only occurs to him when least convenient for the sake of quelling arousal, just how _ridiculous_ he must appear. spread out, perfectly propped up for window shopping display. clearly in the midst of a well-deserved reprimand - only terribly bad angels get themselves into a position like this. his cunt has flushed red, blossoming in sweet shades, the deepest rouge centered where his skin is being thoroughly abused. if anyone walked in, good god, they’d know exactly what was happening. heavenly discipline in its kindest form, love with a shameful face, and _punishment._ if they were in hell, and gabriel was feeling particularly amenable, he might even leave aziraphale up to the demons’ discretion. at their disposal, a very important lesson getting pounded into him - literally, in fact._ _

__and what a joy that would be, tied up and left to be tortured in the most pleasantly desired manner. legs forced spread, unable to close as he’s used over and over, with no end in sight, and only one purpose. to regain his purity through having foulness fucked through him, covered in cum, spit, littered by bruises that'd take more than a miracle to fade. gabriel would watch over him the whole time, gabriel would pet his hair, whisper sweet nothings, keep him safe - while still instilling the one thing aziraphale needed to know. _bad angels don't deserve dignity. bad angels are put on show, used as toys, until they prove they're worth something better.__ _

__and it isn't real, he's completely in control of this, as aziraphale is quickly reminded when gabriel finds him lost in thought, and strokes his shaking shoulders. but that doesn't make it any less overwhelming to imagine. when gabriel pulls his clamps free, letting the blood rush back in eager form, aziraphale shoves a hand between his thighs, and doesn't stop until gabriel’s fingers replace it. fucking into him fiercely, like a tearing, brutal force, ripping him open - the most wanted present never stays wrapped for long._ _

__“come on, you’ve been so desperate all day, don't hold out on me now.” gabriel hums, putting on a bored face, as if lazy and exhausted of aziraphale’s tireless need. he drags a thumb up aziraphale’s clit, rubs into the sore spot left behind, and that's all it takes. aziraphale is cumming, shaking and shuddering, and going dry with tears, still using up the last of his eyes’ repertoire when gabriel soothes him through his aftershocks. he curls into his chest, lets gabriel lift him from the dryer, carrying the grown angel without the slightest hint of struggle. he doesn't loosen his grip until gabriel’s talked him down from the scene, gently working him out of subspace, only putting him down when it's clear he can stand on his own._ _

__“good?” he asks, grinning widely, stupidly broad as aziraphale giggles, nodding drowsily to answer._ _

__(much to his chagrin, he finds out later that night, at the dinner table, no less, that crowley had overheard, and is awfully, awfully humored by it.)_ _

__(that beloved bastard.)_ _

**Author's Note:**

> i want everyone here to know my psychiatrist called me in the middle of writing this and i almost fainted


End file.
